The Golden Lion Empire had long since pierced the veil of the Woltein Empire's secrets. With the genius of Faria Aquirox, a prodigy mechanic barely five years past her first invention, their drone probes had swept across the enemy's dominion unseen. Four hundred and fifty galaxies mapped, one hundred revealed as the sacred homeland of the wolf civilization, the rest sprawling with vassal or enslaved races. The Woltein had expanded too quickly, building their empire like a fortress of glass grand, intimidating, but filled with fissures.
In the workshops of Aquirox Industries, deep beneath the Lionheart Citadel, Faria adjusted the core of her latest stealth drone. The soft whine of Ena Cores echoed as her engineers powered up a fleet of mechs for field testing. Outside her office window, the hangar glowed with life rows of Mech Titans stirred from slumber, their frames shimmering with runes as technicians calibrated weapons and pilots linked with their neural cores.
"Another two years," she muttered, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes, "and I might make them invisible even to Vulpes sensors… or fail spectacularly." She allowed herself a rare smile. "But failures are just prototypes in disguise."
A messenger arrived, bowing sharply. "Lady Aquirox, His Majesty calls the court. The council gathers at once."
Faria set her tools aside, her mind already racing ahead to the war she had helped shape.
High above the city, in the resplendent Golden Lion Palace, Emperor Theodore Lionheart returned from teleportation transit. His black and gold imperial robe shimmered with cosmic thread, a crown of Eternal Diamond resting upon his brow. Calm and towering, the Supreme Absolute carried with him the weight of countless battles and the warmth of a fatherly smile he rarely revealed in public.
He strode across the marble floor and took his place upon the throne of obsidian and lightsteel. At his sides sat his empresses Rufia, youthful and radiant with Chronos' sovereign power, and Selene, dignified and serene, sovereign of Force. Behind him stood his concubines: Eteria Ethereal, the ice-forged sentinel with knightly poise, and Alice Lionheart, the silent shadow in maid's attire whose eyes gleamed like twin blades. Royal Sentinel Aegis lingered near, an unyielding wall of loyalty and power.
At the emperor's summons, the empire's highest officials arrived one by one. The Head Butler, Sebas Lioncrest, bowed with polished grace. Prime Ministers Dmitri Vladimir and Henry Hart followed, their measured steps echoing discipline. The Grand Warmaster, Sol Invictus Starfall, entered in towering black-gold armor, radiating the aura of a war god. The Holy Celestial Lord, Mikael Luminus, strode beside him, clad in flame-forged armor and carrying the solemn weight of the Church. Grand Councilors in ceremonial robes assembled, along with the eight Lord Marshals of the imperial legions. Each took their appointed place warmaster and marshals on the right, celestial lords and councilors on the left until the chamber glowed with power and purpose.
When silence settled, Emperor Theodore rose.
"My children of the Golden Lion," he began, his voice calm yet thunderous, "the hour has come. Our scouts have pierced the veil of Woltein expansion. Their empire swells with slaves and hollow power, their dominion vast but brittle. The World Tree elves stand strained beneath their gaze, and the Vulpes foxes sharpen their fangs in secret." His eyes swept across his council. "We shall strike before the storm breaks upon us."
Murmurs rippled through the chamber, but none dared interrupt.
The emperor extended a hand, and a holographic map of galaxies spun into being above the throne, stars burning like jewels. With a motion, he divided it into three glowing fronts.
"The World Tree elves have chosen alliance with the wolves," Theodore declared, his voice resonating through the golden chamber. "For that betrayal, they shall taste the full steel of lions. Not one legion, but three shall march upon their roots."
He gestured, and the galactic projection shifted to display the emerald domains of the elves, wrapped in ancient runes of protection.
The First Front: World Tree Empire
"Lord Marshal Arthur Ashborne, Lord Marshal Hao Yue, and Lord Marshal Helior Dravion you will lead the Golden Lion, Jade Dragon, and Obsidian Tiger legions. Together, you shall uproot their empire and burn their branches."
Arthur stepped forward first, crimson mech armor gleaming faintly even outside battle. He saluted with steady pride. "By your will, Majesty."
Hao Yue followed, his emerald halberd gleaming in the light. "The Jade Dragon shall coil around their roots and crush them."
Helior Dravion's voice was deep and rumbling, his greatsword slung across his back. "The Obsidian Tiger will hunt until their forests are nothing but ash."
The emperor's eyes hardened, and with a wave, fleets of light filled the chamber.
"You shall be supported," Theodore continued, "by sixty small motherships, six super-large motherships, three flagship motherships, and fleets vast enough to drown a star: sixty million frigates, sixty million destroyers, sixty million cruisers, fifteen million battlecruisers, three million carriers, three hundred thousand dreadnaughts, and one hundred fifty thousand Behemoth Dreadnaughts. The imperial flagships will oversee it all."
The chamber vibrated with restrained awe. Even by Golden Lion standards, such a force was apocalyptic enough to strip galaxies bare and turn the World Tree into a pyre of light.
The Second Front: Woltein Empire
"For the wolves themselves," Theodore said, his tone sharpening, "we strike harder still."
He turned to the Grand Warmaster, Sol Invictus Starfall. "Warmaster, you shall lead five legions into Woltein's heart. Their empire is swollen with arrogance; you will carve through it like fire through chaff."
Sol bowed deeply, his immense frame radiating discipline. "Their war will be my harvest, Majesty."
"Your forces," the emperor said, his hand sweeping across the galactic hologram, "shall consist of thirty million frigates, twenty million destroyers, twenty million cruisers, two million carriers, one million dreadnaughts, one hundred fifty thousand Behemoth Dreadnaughts, and five hundred small motherships. Fifty large motherships shall be at your command, alongside a flagship mothership. Burn their pride to ashes."
The Warmaster clenched his fist against his chest. "So sworn."
The Third Front: Vulpes Empire
Finally, Theodore turned toward the Holy Celestial Lord, Mikael Luminus. "And for the foxes, whose stealth and cunning defy even our probes, we unleash the Church entire."
Mikael lowered his head, fire burning in his eyes. "The Light of the Celestial Order shall not falter."
"Your crusade," Theodore said, "shall include the Valkyrie Executors, Saints, Saintesses, Pope, Cardinals, Paladins, and Templar Knights. Your fleet: one hundred small motherships, twenty super-large motherships, one flagship mothership. You will also command one million units each of Type A, D, and H Mech Titans. Carry faith as your sword, and burn away their shadows."
The holy lord crossed his arm over his chest in salute. "It shall be done."
The Emperor's Benediction
The emperor allowed silence to fall again. His eyes, calm yet blazing with purpose, moved from face to face the loyal butler, the tireless ministers, the brilliant councilors, the warriors who had fought countless wars at his side.
"Know this," he said, voice steady as stone, "this war is not born of cruelty but necessity. The wolves expand like wildfire, the elves bow before them, and the foxes whisper in shadows. If we do not strike, they will come for us in kind. The Golden Lion Empire does not wait for chains we break them before they are forged."
He lifted his hand, and the chamber glowed with golden light. "Go forth with courage. Bring glory to our people. And return to me victorious."
Every official, from Warmaster to maid-protector, bowed as one, their voices thunderous."For the Empire. For the Golden Lion."
Theodore Lionheart closed his eyes for a moment, the warmth of his empresses and the silent loyalty of his concubines steadying him. When he opened them again, the emperor was gone and only the warlord remained.